Fables & Other Lies Read online

  “Um. Hi,” I said. My voice sounded meek. I hoped it didn’t sound that way aloud.

  “Hi.” His voice was a soft, low rumble that vibrated into me and through me.

  He stepped off the stage and started walking toward me. My heart thumped louder with each beat of each step. As he drew near, I was able to get a better look at him and gasped. It was him. Undeniably handsome with square shoulders, a defined jawline, and when he smiled, a slightly crooked tilt of his lips, which spoke of an effortless charm. By the time he closed the distance between us, I was sure I’d stopped breathing altogether.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, taking the remaining air in my lungs.

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me? What does that mean?”

  “I found her,” he said loudly.

  Someone walked quickly into the room. I turned to see the guard who’d been standing by the door.

  “Sir, I am so sorry, I didn’t—”

  “The search is over. I found her,” River said again.

  “What are you talking about?” My heart pounded in my ears.

  “This woman will keep me company tonight,” he said, ignoring me.

  I wasn’t sure who he was speaking to anymore, but then I turned and noticed the tent drapes had been pulled open and the line of women and the people standing all around outside the tent could see us. Maybe I’d drunk too much tequila, but I could have sworn he just said I’d be keeping him company tonight.

  I turned to face him. “I’m sorry, my name wasn’t on the list. I wasn’t even—”

  “You’re my pick, Penelope Guzman.”

  “But I didn’t even sign up for this.”

  “You didn’t have to.” His smile was wolfish, territorial. “I’m the host of Carnival this year and I’m choosing to spend my night with you.” He took my hand in his.

  “I . . . ” I looked around again, at a loss for words. I was entirely too inebriated to fully grasp what was happening, so I said the first thing that came to mind: “Our families hate each other.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” He was no longer smiling, but he looked just as amused as he did a minute ago.

  There was a glow in his eyes, a glint. He still didn’t look nice, but the adrenaline coursing through me was too palpable for me to turn away, to yank my hand from his, and if I’d really been analyzing what I was feeling, I would classify it as excitement. The most powerful man on the island, the most sought after, the most mysterious, the one I was told to never, ever summon by name, was holding my hand. I left it there, ignoring the shiver that slithered down my spine. Wela was going to disown me for this. I felt that warning in the pit of my stomach and it was only then that I pulled my hand from his.

  “What happened, little witch? You remembered who you were?” River chuckled.

  “I’m not the witch here.” I met his gaze. “And I’m not little.”

  “No, not at all.” He looked amused. I was annoyed.

  “Why’d you pick me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “There are a lot of women on the island.”

  “Why’d you stand in line?”

  “I thought it was the bathroom.”

  “Really?” He brought a fist up to cough into it, hiding a laugh.

  “I’m not joking.” I clenched my shaky hands into fists.

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  I swallowed. “So, why would you pick me?”

  “Why would I not?”

  I blinked, shaking my head. We were getting nowhere fast. “What am I supposed to do? As your chosen companion, I mean.”

  “Spend the night with me.”

  “Oh.” I was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. “And if I don’t?”

  “You have to.”

  “Says who?”

  “The law. You should thank your father for that one. Oh, that’s right, you can’t.” He grinned; it was a slow, sexy grin that made my stomach flip despite myself. “You either spend it with me or spend it in jail, and you know the conditions of these jails.”

  “I don’t like to be given ultimatums.”

  “If you don’t like ultimatums, you shouldn’t have come to Carnival. The moment you did, you sealed your fate.” He closed the distance between us again. “As a matter of fact, the moment you came back to the island, you sealed your fate.”

  Before I could question him any further, people began piling into the tent, mostly women, most glaring at me. I couldn’t tell if they were upset he hadn’t picked them or upset that he was the host. It was more attention than I wanted, and when the local news reporter stepped inside waving a microphone and shoving a camera in our faces, I felt my flight response kick in and barged through the ocean of people, stomping out of the tent. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I knew I needed to get out of there. Back to Dolly’s, I guessed, would be a good place to run. Back to my friends. Another shot of tequila sounded nice, especially now that my previous buzz had been stripped away by all of the hoopla.

  Chapter Seven

  “Run that by me again,” Jose said. “River Caliban picked you?”

  “He did but it doesn’t matter. I’d rather spend a night in jail than with him.”

  “Spend the night in jail and risk your grandmother finding out?” Dee raised an eyebrow.

  “Why would she find out?” Martín set down his beer and looked at her.

  “Anyone who goes to jail gets published on the front page of the paper,” she said. “It’s the ultimate no-no. The last thing anyone wants is for their parents or grandparents to see the paper and have their last names tarnished like that.”

  “Especially if you’re Pan Island royalty and your last name is Guzman,” Jose added.

  “My last name was tarnished the day I published the picture of Caliban Manor.” I glanced away from my friends just as the front door of the bar opened and River Caliban stepped inside.

  A jolt zapped through me the instant our eyes met. I’d heard about the electric pull between two people. I’d imagined it happening to me every time I read one of my grandmother’s historical romance novels. I never in my wildest dreams thought it was real, but most of all I hated that it was River Caliban, of all people, who made me feel it. My entire life I’d been warned against them, and here I was, feeling things. Wela did always say the Devil was a charmer and if that was the case, this one had him one-upped for sure. He walked over to our table and stood beside me as if he belonged there. I swallowed, looking at Dee, across from me. Her eyes looked as wide as they’d ever been. So, did Jose’s. Martín looked absolutely stunned as well, but it was he who broke the ice and extended his hand to River with the clearing of his throat.

  “Martín Echevarria.” He shook his hand. “I was invited to your party tomorrow night and I’m not sure how involved you were with the invitations, but I figure I should thank you anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.” River’s mouth turned up. “So, I expect you’ll be there with your plus one? Barbara, was it?”

  “Not Barbara.” Martín chuckled. “It’s a long story. I will take Denise Grillon with me.” He put an arm around Dee.

  “Good. That’s nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Denise.” River shook her hand, then turned to Jose. “You as well.”

  “Jose.” Jose cleared his throat. “Jose Beauchamp.”

  “Jose Beauchamp.” River gave a nod. “Will you also be in attendance?”

  “The invitation must have missed my house.” Jose laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine skipping it.”

  “Nonsense.” River frowned, then glanced over his shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw a small group of people gathered at the table beside us. Two women and one man. All dressed in black. “Miss Fabiola. Please take note of the name Jose Beauchamp. He will be in attendance tomorrow evening as well.”

  “Sure th
ing.” Miss Fabiola, a pretty Black woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, said with a nod and a stiff smile. She only shot me a quick glance before turning back to her group of people. It felt like a warning.

  “Now, onto other matters at hand.” River brought a hand up and used his pointer to caress over my shoulder.

  “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.” I shivered and pulled away, shooting a glare at him.

  River’s eyes darkened. There was no distinction between his iris and his pupil. His gaze was so intense, so alluring, that I found that I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to.

  “Why did you choose Penny?” Jose asked after a moment.

  “Why not?” River kept his attention on me.

  “How do you even know who I am?” I asked.

  “Doesn’t everyone on this island know who you are? The rebellious Penelope Guzman, who took a picture of her enemies’ house and made millions from it.” River’s tone was light, but his expression was far from it.

  “Is that why you chose me? Because you want to take revenge on the person who capitalized off your family name?” I raised an eyebrow as I reached for my Lemon Drop. “I should tell you that I didn’t make millions.”

  “Maybe not.” He cocked his head. “But you made a career from it and I have to assume you’re doing very well for yourself.”

  “I’m doing fine.”

  “You’re doing better than fine.” River chuckled, a dark, deep sound that pulled at my strings. “Mrs. Dolly is doing fine, making just enough to pay her rent every month. You’re doing well enough to afford your luxurious taste in designer clothing.” He raised an eyebrow. “I would assume your father cut you off the moment you left.”

  “Don’t talk about my father.” I took a healthy gulp of the Lemon Drop and glanced away.

  This was one of the issues with having too many people following you on the internet. Even though most of the time I only posted photos of old houses and haunts, every once in a while when I felt cute, I posted a selfie or asked a friend to take a posed picture of myself and that was where I assumed he saw my . . . as he said, luxurious taste in designer clothing. Damn social media.

  “So, what can we expect from the party tomorrow night?” Martín asked.

  I was glad he took the attention off me for a moment. I grabbed my crossbody from the table. “I need to use the restroom.”

  I didn’t wait for anyone to acknowledge that before walking straight to the back of the bar. My heart was pounding so loudly in my head I could barely think straight and I couldn’t be sure if it was the amount of alcohol in my system or the fact that River Caliban, hot as he may be, had stalked the shit out of me and I was unnerved by it. He didn’t even bother to deny it either. The bathroom door closed and opened right away behind me and I turned around holding my breath, half expecting him to have followed. It was Dee though.

  “Hey.” She walked over. “So that was weird.”

  “Understatement of the century.”

  “I mean, at least he’s really hot?” She cringed even as she said it.

  “He thinks he knows my entire freaking wardrobe.” I paced the bathroom. “I just feel like the only reason he picked me was to show me he has a one-up on me. And to humiliate me. And gloat. And . . . take revenge on behalf of his family.”

  “Seriously?” Dee let out a laugh. “This isn’t a movie set in the middle ages, P. If you don’t want to go with him, go to jail. Fuck it. If I were you, I’d go though. I mean, he’s hot, he’s rich, he lives in that mansion we never really get to see. Why not take advantage and get all the pictures you can get?”

  I pursed my lips, nodding. And I could get the leaves from the supposed magical tree. If there was a tree at all. It was the absolute least I could do for my family, right?

  “You know what?” I nodded a little more enthusiastically now. “I’m going to do it.”

  “Good.” Dee smiled. “And if you want to leave or feel threatened, you call the cops and then us and we’ll be right over.” She hugged me quickly. “Now let’s get back to the table.”

  “Go ahead. I actually do need to use the bathroom.” I smiled as she walked out.

  When I finished washing my hands and left the bathroom, I felt like a woman on a mission. That was, until I ran straight into River, who was standing between the men’s and women’s, smoking a cigarette.

  “You’re not supposed to smoke indoors, you know?” I pulled back and sneezed. “Also, I should warn you, I’m allergic.”

  “To cigarette smoke?” He raised an eyebrow. I nodded and sneezed again. He turned and pressed the cigarette to the ashtray on the table beside him, blowing the smoke in the other direction.

  “Thank you.” I cleared my throat. I hadn’t expected him to do that at all.

  “See? I can be civil.”

  “I’m not sure I’d classify that as civil, but sure.” I shrugged. “I have a question. About tonight I mean.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m assuming we’ll be going back to your house, but how are we getting there? The tide should be low, but not low enough to walk across.” I frowned, realizing I didn’t really know. “Or is it?”

  “It is,” he said. “I have a car waiting outside to take us back when you’re ready.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to stay for the festivities? I heard there are huge artists coming.”

  “I didn’t come for the festivities.” His smile was slow and purposeful, like a wolf ready to pounce on prey.

  “You came here for me,” I said.

  “Beauty and brains. We have a winner.” He smiled wider, and with that, escorted me outside the building through the back door.

  Chapter Eight

  The chauffeur was the bodyguard from before. This time, he solely focused on the road as River and I sat in the backseat of the black Rolls Royce. Truly, a luxury car. I stretched my legs fully and my toes still didn’t touch the back of the seat in front of me. I closed my eyes and inhaled the leather. It smelled like one of my designer bags. I could live in this car and die happy. River’s chuckle made me open my eyes and look at him. I expected him to be on his phone, but he was just looking out the window. I glanced over his shoulder to see what was so funny, but didn’t see anything. It was pitch black out. He was probably plotting my demise and I was the idiot going willingly. When I looked out my window, the only thing I could make out beneath the swaying fog was the Devil’s Chair. The car stopped there and my heart sped up. When I turned to ask why we were stopped there of all places, I caught the eyes of the driver in the rearview and my question died in my throat.

  “The gate takes a moment,” River explained.

  I looked around again. “There are no people here.”

  “It is pretty desolate, isn’t it?” He looked outside. “They must all be enjoying the concert.”

  “That doesn’t seem right.” I shook my head and looked outside again. Every window brought the same emptiness. “I don’t understand. The people that . . . a lot of people come for the chair and for the house. Someone would be here, surely.”

  “Do you want to get out and find out for yourself?”

  “No.” I shivered and crossed my arms.

  The gates opened, welcoming us in, as if my refusal to be near the chair was what it had been waiting for. When we drove past the gates, I turned to watch them shut behind us and felt my fate seal. I was going to the Caliban Manor and I was going with a Caliban. The heir to the house and the family’s troubles. That was what my father always said about firstborns. It was the way he introduced me to all of his friends. “This is my daughter, the heir to all of my troubles.” With that memory, a heaviness settled inside of me.

  “It’s so dark out here. I can’t even tell where we are.” I cleared my throat, needing a distraction. Memories. For years the only wish I had was for some of my memories to return, my memories from home, which seemed as murky as the air around us. Yet, with remembrance came pain.

  “We’ll b
e there soon.” River glanced at me, meeting my eyes.

  “Do you go into town often?”

  “Sometimes. When I’m meeting someone.”

  “Like for a date?”

  “Could be a date.”

  “Hm.” I swallowed and looked away momentarily. “Do you normally bring your dates back to the house? I can’t imagine what that must be like when the tide is high.”

  “We have boats.” His eyes twinkled.

  “They say this water is angry. I’m not really sure I’d ever get on a boat.”

  “I’m sure you would in the right circumstance.”

  “Why are you selling?” I asked suddenly. The car began its track up the winding hill and I needed to take my mind off the idea that we could go overboard anytime.

  “I’m not sure that I am. I just want to know what my options are.”

  “Oh.”

  “My father is ill. My mother never did quite like this house. She’s looking to move to the Italian countryside, someplace far.”

  “Oh.” My brows rose. “Your mother . . . Sarah?”

  “Stepmother. Yes.” River’s lips twitched. “She’d be happy to know she hasn’t been forgotten.”

  “Forgotten?” I let out a laugh. “Legends never die.”

  “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  I felt some of my anxiety ease a little. “So, your father is ill?”

  “He is.”

  “What’s wrong with him? If I may know.”

  “The doctors can’t quite figure it out. They’ve run tests and scans and find nothing, yet he’s lost weight, energy . . . ” He looked forward.

  My gaze followed. The only thing I could make out was the rocky path, which made the car bounce every so often. My stomach clenched. I hoped I wouldn’t throw up all the tequila I’d drunk. I’d never done it before, but there was a first time for everything. I just didn’t want my first time to be in the back of a luxury car that probably cost what my shoes cost to detail. Suddenly, there was a low, and I knew we were finished going up the hill and getting closer to the house. I’d seen the picture I’d taken so many times, you’d think seeing it in person wouldn’t be shocking, but it was. I’d hoped so much that being here would mean that my memories would come flooding back. That wasn’t the case. I didn’t remember seeing the house at all. It was so much bigger than I remembered. An estate. A dark, gray estate with decaying windowpanes. Even the trees on the property looked dead, but that could be because of the lack of grass. It was an impossibility, this house, yet there it was, staring right back at me.